postheadericon WHAT OUR ANIMALS DO FOR LOVE

 

I just must share this vignette which beautifully demonstrates the loyalty and love our precious animals, whether horses, dogs, or others, share withy us because they wish to do so not because they must.  As usual when I read something that touches me, I cried. I do hope it touches you also. M

Subject: Horses – a true story because of love

A brother and sister had made their usual hurried, obligatory pre-Christmas visit to the little farm where dwelt their elderly
parents with their small herd of horses. The farm was where they  had grown up and had been named Lone Pine Farm because of the huge pine, which topped the hill behind the farm. Through the years the  tree had become a talisman to the old man and his wife, and a  landmark in the countryside.

The young siblings had fond memories of their childhood here, but the city hustle and bustle added more excitement to their lives, and called them away to a different life. The old folks no longer showed their horses, for the years had           taken their toll, and getting out to the barn on those frosty
mornings was getting harder, but it gave them a reason to get up in the mornings and a reason to live. They sold a few foals each year, and the horses were their reason for joy in the morning and contentment at day’s end.

Angry, as they prepared to leave, the young couple confronted the  old folks. “Why do you not at least dispose of  The Old One.” She is no longer of use to you. It’s been years since you’ve had foals from her. You should cut corners and save so you can have more for yourselves. How can this old worn out horse bring you anything but expense and work? Why do you keep her anyway?”

The old man looked down at his worn boots, holes in the toes,
scuffed at the barn floor and replied, ” Yes, I could use a pair of new boots. His arm slid defensively about the Old One’s neck as he drew her near with gentle caressing he rubbed her softly behind her ears.  He replied softly, “We keep her  because of love. Nothing else, just love.”

Baffled and irritated, the young folks wished the old man and his wife a Merry Christmas and headed back toward the city as darkness stole through the valley. The old couple shook their heads in sorrow that it had not been a happy visit. A tear fell upon their cheeks. How is it that these young folks do not understand the peace of the love that filled their hearts?

So it was, that because of the unhappy leave-taking, no one noticed the insulation smoldering on the frayed wires in the old barn.  None saw the first spark fall. None but the “Old One.”   In a matter of minutes, the whole barn was ablaze and the hungry flames were licking at the loft full of hay. With a cry of horror and despair, the old man shouted to his wife to call for help as he raced to the barn to save their beloved horses. But the flames were roaring now, and the blazing heat drove him back. He sank sobbing to the ground, helpless before the fire’s fury. His wife back from calling for help cradled him in her arms, clinging to each other, they wept at their loss.

By the time the fire department arrived, only smoking, glowing ruins were left, and the old man and his wife, exhausted from their grief, huddled together before the barn. They were speechless as they rose from the cold snow covered ground. They nodded thanks to the firemen as there was nothing anyone could do now. The old man turned to his wife, resting her white head upon his shoulders as his shaking old hands clumsily dried her tears with a frayed red bandana. Brokenly he whispered, “We have lost much, but God has
spared our home on this eve of Christmas. Let us gather strength and climb the hill to the old pine where we have sought comfort in times of despair. We will look down upon our home and give thanks  to God that it has been spared and pray for our beloved most precious gifts that have been taken from us.

And so, he took her by the hand and slowly helped her up the snowy  hill as he brushed aside his own tears with the back of his old and withered hand.

The journey up the hill was hard for their old bodies in the steep snow. As they stepped over the little knoll at the crest of the hill, they paused to rest, looking up to the top of the hill the old couple gasped and fell to their knees in amazement at the incredible beauty before them.

Seemingly, every glorious, brilliant star in the heavens was caught up in the glittering, snow-frosted branches of their beloved pine, and it was aglow with heavenly candles. And poised on its top most bough, a crystal crescent moon glistened like spun glass. Never had a mere mortal created a Christmas tree such as this. They were breathless as the old man held his wife tighter in his arms.   

Suddenly, the old man gave a cry of wonder and incredible joy.  

Amazed and mystified, he took his wife by the hand and pulled her forward. There, beneath the tree, in resplendent glory, a mist hovering over and glowing in the darkness was their Christmas gift. Shadows glistening in the night light.  Bedded down about the “Old One” close to the trunk of the tree, was the entire herd, safe.

At the first hint of smoke, she had pushed the door ajar with her muzzle and had led the horses through it. Slowly and with great dignity, never looking back, she had led them up the hill, stepping cautiously through the snow. The foals were frightened and dashed about. The skittish yearlings looked back at the crackling, hungry flames, and tucked their tails under them as they licked their lips and hopped like rabbits. The mares that were in foal with a new year’s crop of babies, pressed uneasily against the “Old One” as she moved calmly up the hill and to safety beneath the pine. And now, she lay among them and gazed at the faces of the old man and his
wife. Those she loved she had not disappointed. Her body was
brittle with years, tired from the climb, but the golden eyes were filled with devotion as she offered her gift—     

Because of love . . .Only Because of love . . .      

Tears flowed as the old couple shouted their praise and joy. And again the peace of love filled their hearts. . .

Now, it may not be very unkind of me, but I hope to hell the old man and his wife disinherit their rotten kids!

 

  

postheadericon A Christmas Story for Dog Lovers

 

I can just see the sweet, humble, loving Cavalier in this story (with no author given) worshipping with the other animals in the manger with the new born King:

A Christmas Story for Dog Lovers

Long ago in the deepest of winters all of the animals on Earth were abuzz with the news.

“HE IS BORN! HE IS BORN!” cried the snowy owl.

“Come one and all, rejoice!” roared the mighty lion. “Bring gifts to the new King!”

The forest grew bright with the din of excitement. Every creature was running towards the star. The noise was so loud and joyful that it traveled distant lands. In a quiet glen, under a bramble bush, a small lonely Cavalier dog raised his head from his slumber and heard the sounds from afar.

He raised his little head and wondered. Slowly he raised his tired body and sniffed the air. He knew something was amiss – but he knew not what. A voice ever so sweet was singing in the distance, this he could hear. The words were not at all clear, but the sound was of waterfalls, and misty mornings and everything dear … Eagerly he followed the sound and soon saw a star. It shone so brightly his big eyes watered. What was this shiny thing that happily glowed? What could be happening that would bring about such a lovely sight?

His little legs beat the path for many days. He became tired and hungry but still he walked on. He had to follow the sound of that voice. The voice that reminded him of warmer and kinder times. He had to follow the light of the star. The star told him of happy things to come. At last he came into a clearing and his eyes beheld a mystifying sight. Animals were everywhere and each had a precious gift. Some brought shiny berries from the forest, some brought beautiful leaves, some brought twigs from the rarest of trees and some even brought the most precious wildflowers of the fields. They were laying these gifts at the entrance of a stable. Above the stable the light of the star twinkled more brightly than before.

He turned to the deer and asked: “What is all this? Where have I come?”

“You have come to see the new King. He is born. Where are your gifts for the child?” asked the deer reproachfully.

“I have no gifts …. I didn’t know…” said the lonely little dog with his head hung low.

The deer sneered and snubbed and quickly walked away as he tossed his head indignantly. The little dog’s body trembled all over, his little tail flew between his little legs, his little head hung lower than ever. He was ashamed.

And yet … he still wanted to get a little peek at the New King.

Quietly, ever so carefully, he crept over to the stable. He was so small he could easily hide under the other animals. Ever so sleekly he crept up to the manger and peeked inside.

“WHO ARE YOU!” boomed the voice of the Lion. “WHY DO YOU DARE NOT BRING GIFTS FOR THE NEW KING?” The little dog cowered, much humbled. He laid his little head at the foot of the manger and hid his eyes. He was ready to be killed by the Lion, and yet he spoke ever so quietly, ever so meekly, ever so bravely: “I have no gifts, I have no berries, or twigs, or bright flowers of the field … all I have is my life and I will gladly give that, for I have shamed all my brethren tonight.”

He waited – with his eyes closed, thinking that if he did die tonight, at least he would die beneath the cradle of his King. That’s when a warm and gentle hand was upon him. He did not dare to open his eyes, until he heard a woman’s voice speak: “Do not fear little one. You are safe here. This bramble in your fur speaks of the gift you have brought to him.” The lonely little dog opened his eyes and looked up at the woman.

“But I have no gift to offer, save for myself, and that is very little …” he shyly protested.

The woman smiled and scratched his ears. “Little dog, you traveled far to see the King …. that is gift enough when it comes from your heart. What gift is more precious than one given in innocence and humility? No little one, you are welcome here.” As she spoke she raised the little dog up.

“Behold, your King, the Son of Man. You shall serve him well.” And the baby smiled.

So it came to pass and dog was lonely no more.

And dog has served man ever since, loyal to a fault, and humble he remains.

A gift from God to us, for who, but dog will travel miles without explanation?

Who, but dog will cower from you even if he is not wrong?

Who, but dog will take a scolding even when he is not to blame?

Who, but dog is content to die at our feet if he so must?

Let us care for it well.

postheadericon Peace on Earth–Animals Are Magic

 

My friends are always sending me gems of features,thoughts and inspiration. I never know where the vignettes that I feature on this blog originate, but I just know that they have meaning for me and, hopefully, for you also.  The following are of my favorite subject–ANIMALS:

Animals can teach us everyday!

Jasmine
In 2003, police in Warwickshire, England,  opened a garden shed and found a  whimpering, cowering dog. It had been  locked in the shed and abandoned. It was dirty and malnourished, and had  clearly been abused. In an act of  kindness, the police took the dog, which was a Greyhound female, to the nearby  Nuneaton Warwickshire Wildlife  Sanctuary, run by a man named Geoff Grewcock  and known as a willing haven  for animals abandoned, orphaned or otherwise in  need. Geoff and  the other sanctuary staff went to work with two aims to restore the dog to  full health, and to win her trust. It took several weeks, but eventually  both  goals were achieved.

They named her Jasmine, and they started  to think  about finding her an adoptive home. But Jasmine had other  ideas. No one remembers now how it began, but she started welcoming all animal arrivals at the sanctuary.  It wouldn’t matter if it was  a puppy, a  fox cub, a rabbit or, any other lost or hurting animal, Jasmine  would peer into the box or cage and, where possible, deliver a
welcoming  lick.

Geoff  relates one of the early incidents. “We had two puppies that had been abandoned by a nearby railway line. One was a Lakeland Terrier cross and another was a Jack Russell-Doberman cross. They were tiny when they arrived at  the centre and Jasmine approached them and grabbed one by the  scruff of the  neck in her mouth and put him on the settee. Then she fetched the other one  and sat down with them, cuddling  them.”

“But she is like that with all  of  our animals, even the rabbits. She
takes all the stress out of them and it  helps them to not only feel close to her but to settle into their new  surroundings.
She has done the same  with the fox and badger cubs, she licks the rabbits and  guinea pigs and  even lets the birds perch on the bridge of her 
nose.”

Jasmine, the timid, abused,  deserted waif, became the animal  sanctuary’s resident surrogate mother, a  role for which she might have been  born. The list of orphaned and  abandoned youngsters she has cared for  comprises five fox cubs, four  badger cubs, 15 chicks, eight guinea pigs, two  stray puppies and 15  rabbits.

And one roe deer fawn. Tiny Bramble, 11 weeks old, was found 
semi-conscious in a field. Upon arrival at the sanctuary,  Jasmine cuddled  up to her to keep her warm, and then went into the full foster  mum role.  Jasmine the greyhound showers Bramble the Roe deer with affection  and  makes sure nothing is matted.

“They  are  inseparable,are  inseparable,” says Geoff “Bramble walks
between Jasmine’s legs while kissing each other. They walk together round the sanctuary. It’s a real  treat to see  them.”

Jasmine  will continue  to care for Bramble until she is old enough to be returned to  woodland  life. When that happens, Jasmine will not be lonely. She will be too  busy  showering love and affection on the next orphan or victim of  abuse.

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  From  left, Toby, a stray Lakeland dog; Bramble, orphaned Roe  deer; Buster, a stray Jack Russell; a dumped rabbit; Sky, an injured barn  owl; and Jasmine with a Mothers heart doing best what a caring Mother would do….

Such is the order of God’s Creation.

        A wonderful story to lift your spirit

A  female whale had become entangled in a spider  web of crab traps  and  lines.

She was weighted down by hundreds of pounds of traps that caused   her to struggle to stay afloat. 

She also had hundreds of yards of line rope wrapped  around her body, her tail, her torso, a line tugging in her mouth.

A fisherman spotted her just east of the Faralon Islands (outside the Golden Gate ) and radioed  for help.

Within a few hours, the rescue team arrived and determined that she was so bad off, the only way  to save her was to dive in and untangle  her–a very dangerous proposition.  One slap of the tail could kill a rescuer.

They worked for hours with curved knives and eventually freed her. 

When she was free, the divers say she swam in what seemed like joyous circles.  She then came back to each and every diver, one at a time, nudged them, and  pushed gently,  thanking them. Some said it was the most incredibly beautiful experience of their lives.

The guy who cut the rope out of her mouth says her eye was  following him the whole time, and  he will never be the same. 

May you, and all those you love, be so fortunate to be surrounded by people who will help you get untangled from the things that are binding you. And may you always know the joy of giving and receiving gratitude.
    

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  And the next heartwarming story in photos:

I  come in  peace.

Norbert Rosing’s  striking images of a wild polar  bear  coming upon
tethered sled dogs in  the wild.  The photographer was sure that he was going to see the end of his dogs when the polar bear  wandered  in:
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postheadericon The dog story- !!! KLEENEX ALERT !!!

It amazes me that my that my friend Marilee Snyder keeps sending me emails about facts or stories that seem to be a fit for this blog . I used a whole box of Kleenex reading this one:

Ain’t nothing like a dog!

They told me the big black Lab’s name was Reggie as I looked at him lying in his pen. the shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly. I’d only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the
small college town, people were welcoming and open. Everyone waves when you pass them on the street.

But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn’t hurt.
Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen Reggie’s advertisement on the local news. The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after, but they said the
people who had come down to see him just didn’t look like “Lab people,” whatever that meant. They must’ve thought I did.

But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me Reggie and his things, which consisted of a dog
pad, bag of toys almost all of which were brand new tennis balls, his dishes, and a sealed letter from his previous owner. See, Reggie and I didn’t really hit it off when we
got home. We struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter told me to give him to adjust to his new home). Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too. Maybe we were too much alike.

For some reason, his stuff (except for the tennis balls – he wouldn’t go anywhere without two stuffed in his mouth)
got tossed in with all of my other unpacked boxes. I guess I didn’t really think he’d need all his old stuff, that I’d get him new things once he settled in. but it became pretty clear pretty soon that he wasn’t going to.

I tried the normal commands the shelter told me he knew, ones like “sit” and “stay” and “come” and “heel,” and he’d follow them – when he felt like it. He never really seemed
to listen when I called his name – sure, he’d look in my direction after the fourth of fifth time I said it, but then he’d just go back to doing whatever. When I’d ask again, you could almost see him sigh and then grudgingly obey.

This just wasn’t going to work. He chewed a couple shoes and some unpacked boxes. I was a little too stern with him and he resented it, I could tell. The friction got so bad that I couldn’t wait for the two weeks to be up, and when it was, I was in full-on search mode for my cell phone amid all of my unpacked stuff. I remembered leaving it on the stack of boxes for the guest room, but I also mumbled, rather cynically, that the “damn dog probably hid it on me.”

Finally I found it, but before I could punch up the shelter’s number, I also found his pad and other toys from the shelter.. I tossed the pad in Reggie’s direction and he snuffed it and wagged, some of the most enthusiasm I’d seen since bringing him home.. But then I called, “Hey, Reggie, you like that? Come here and I’ll give you a treat.” Instead, he sort of glanced in my direction – maybe “glared” is more accurate – and then gave a
discontented sigh and flopped down.. With his back to me.

Well, that’s not going to do it either, I thought. And I punched the shelter phone number. But I hung up when I saw
the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that, too. “Okay, Reggie,” I said out loud, “let’s see if your previous owner has any advice.”……….
_______________________________________
“To Whoever Gets My Dog:

Well, I can’t say that I’m happy you’re reading this, a letter I told the shelter could only be opened by Reggie’s new owner. I’m not even happy writing it. If you’re reading this, it means I just got back from my last car ride with my Lab after dropping him off at the shelter. He knew something was different. I have packed up his pad and
toys before and set them by the back door before a trip, but this time… it’s like he knew something was wrong.

And something is wrong… which is why I have to go to try to make it right. So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will
help you bond with him and he with you. First, he loves tennis balls…. the more the merrier. Sometimes I think he’s part squirrel, the way he hordes them. He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn’t done it yet. Doesn’t matter where you throw them, he’ll bound after it, so be careful – really don’t do it by any roads. I made that mistake once, and it
almost cost him dearly.

Next, commands. Maybe the shelter staff already told you, but I’ll go over them again: Reggie knows the obvious ones – “sit,” “stay,” “come,” “heel.” He knows hand signals:
“back” to turn around and go back when you put your hand straight up; and “over” if you put your hand out right or left. “Shake” for shaking water off, and “paw” for a high-five.

He does “down” when he feels like lying down-I bet you could work on that with him some more. He knows “ball” and “food” and “bone” and “treat” like nobody’s business. I trained Reggie with small food treats. Nothing opens his ears like little pieces of hot dog.

Feeding schedule: twice a day, once about seven in the morning, and again at six in the evening. Regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.

He’s up on his shots. Call the clinic on 9th Street and update his info with yours; they’ll make sure to send you reminders for when he’s due. Be forewarned: Reggie hates
the vet. Good luck getting him in the car – I don’t know how he knows when it’s time to go to the vet, but he knows.

Finally, give him some time. I’ve never been married, so it’s only been Reggie and me for his whole life. He’s gone everywhere with me, so please include him on your daily
car rides if you can. He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn’t bark or complain. He just loves to be around people, and me most especially.

Which means that this transition is going to be hard, with him going to live with someone new.

And that’s why I need to share one more bit of info with you….His name’s not Reggie.

I don’t know what made me do it, but when I dropped him off at the shelter, I told them his name was Reggie. He’s a smart dog, he’ll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I have no doubt. but I just couldn’t bear to give them his real name. For me to do that, it seemed so final, that handing him over to the shelter was as good as me admitting that I’d never see him again. And if I end up
coming back, getting him, and tearing up this letter, it means everything’s fine. But if someone else is reading it, well… well it means that his new owner should know
his real name. It’ll help you bond with him. Who knows, maybe you’ll even notice a change in his demeanor if he’s been giving you problems.

His real name is Tank. Because that is what I drive. Again, if you’re reading this and you’re from the area, maybe my name has been on the news. I told the shelter that they couldn’t make “Reggie” available for adoption until they received word from my company commander. See, my parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one I could’ve
left Tank with… and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call to the shelter… in the “event”… to tell them that
Tank could be put up for adoption. Luckily, my colonel is a dog guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed. He said he’d do it personally. And if you’re reading this,
then he made good on his word.

Well, this letter is getting to downright depressing, even though, frankly, I’m just writing it for my dog. I couldn’t imagine if I was writing it for a wife and kids and family. but still, Tank has been my family for the
last six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family.

And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your family and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he loved me.

That unconditional love from a dog is what I took with me to Iraq as an inspiration to do something selfless, to protect innocent people from those who would do terrible
things… and to keep those terrible people from coming over here. If I had to give up Tank in order to do it, I am glad to have done so. He was my example of service and
of love. I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades.

All right, that’s enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. I don’t think I’ll say another good-bye to Tank, though.. I cried too much the first time. Maybe I’ll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth.

Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss goodnight – every night – from me.

Thank you, Paul Mallory
_____________________________________

I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope.

Sure I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the Silver Star when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at half-mast all summer.

I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at the dog.

“Hey, Tank,” I said quietly.

The dog’s head whipped up, his ears cocked and his eyes bright.

“C’mere boy.”

He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn’t heard in months. “Tank,”
I whispered. His tail swished.

I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just seemed to flood
him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my face into his scruff and hugged him.

“It’s me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me.” Tank reached up and licked my cheek. “So whatdaya say we play some ball? His ears perked again. “Yeah?
Ball? You like that? Ball?” Tank tore from my hands and disappeared in the next room.

And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.

And now I am crying again. Please pray for our soldiers and those they have left behind  human or canine or for that matter feline and equine. With Woodstock so much in the news right now, please remember our guys who died in the Vietnam war and let’s finally pay that war’s living vets the respect we denied them then and may be still denying them as so many of them have just dropped out of the life they once would have dreamt of living before they went to Nam. 

postheadericon Great Story-Lucky the Dog

The Animal Rights groups pushing all the anti-dog and anti breeding legislation say they are concerned with animal welfare.  Animal welfare and rights are two totally different concepts in my view.  Dogs have contributed so much to us:  war dogs, hearing dogs, seeing eye dogs, therapy dogs, herding dogs, guard dogs, scent and rescue dogs, beloved pets–the list could go on and on about how dogs and humans work together and love each other.  All of the dog related bills being proposed throughout this county will do serious damage to all of us breeders and pet owners alike.  I know that I can not live without my dogs.  The following story is sweet and one more example of how we benefit from the dogs in our lives.

Mary and her husband Jim had a dog named ‘Lucky.’  Lucky was a real character. Whenever Mary and Jim had company come for a weekend visit they would warn their friends to not leave their luggage open because Lucky would help himself to whatever struck his fancy. Inevitably, someone would forget and something would come up missing.

Mary or Jim would go to Lucky’s toy box in the basement and there the treasure would be, amid all of Lucky’s other favorite toys Lucky always stashed his finds in his toy box and he was very particular that his toys stay in the box.

It happened that Mary found out she had breast cancer. Something told her she was going to die of this disease….in fact; she was just sure it was fatal. She scheduled the double mastectomy, fear riding her shoulders. The night before she was to go to the hospital she cuddled with Lucky. A thought struck her…what would happen to Lucky? Although the three-year-old dog liked Jim, he was Mary’s dog through and through. If I die, Lucky will be abandoned, Mary thought. He won’t understand that I didn’t want to leave him!  The thought made her sadder than thinking of her own death.

The double mastectomy was harder on Mary than her doctors had anticipated and Mary was hospitalized for over two weeks. Jim took Lucky for his evening walk faithfully, but the little dog just drooped, whining and miserable.

Finally the day came for Mary to leave the hospital. When she arrived home, Mary was so exhausted she couldn’t even make it up the steps to her bedroom.  Jim made his wife comfortable on the couch and left her to nap. Lucky stood watching Mary but he didn’t come to her when she called.  It made Mary sad but sleep soon overcame her and she dozed.

When Mary woke for a second she couldn’t understand what was wrong.  She couldn’t move her head and her body felt heavy and hot. But panic soon gave way to laughter when Mary realized the problem. She was covered, literally blanketed, with every treasure Lucky owned!  While she had slept, the sorrowing dog had made trip after trip to the basement bringing his beloved mistress all his favorite things in life. He had covered her with his love.

Mary forgot about dying. Instead she and Lucky began living again, walking further and further together every day. It’s been 12 years now and Mary is still cancer-free. Lucky He still steals treasures and stashes them in his toy box but Mary remains his greatest treasure.

Remember….live every day to the fullest. Each minute is a blessing from God. And never forget….the people who make a difference in our lives are not the ones with the most Credentials, the most money, or the most awards. They are the ones that care for us.

If you see someone without a smile today give them one of yours! Live simply. Love seriously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God

postheadericon DOGS ARE REALLY WONDERFUL

Such a lovely story:   

Lucky Dog….

Anyone who has pets will really like this. You’ll like it even if you don’t and you may even decide you need one!

Mary and her husband Jim had a dog named ‘Lucky.’

Lucky was a real character. Whenever Mary and Jim had company come for a weekend visit they would warn their friends to not leave their luggage open because Lucky would help himself to whatever struck his fancy. Inevitably, someone would forget and something would come up missing.

Mary or Jim would go to Lucky’s toy box in the basement and there the treasure would be, amid all of Lucky’s other favorite toys Lucky always stashed his finds in his toy box and he was very particular that his toys stay in the box.

It happened that Mary found out she had breast cancer. Something told her she was going to die of this disease….in fact; she was just sure it was fatal.

She scheduled the double mastectomy, fear riding her shoulders. The night before she was to go to the hospital she cuddled with Lucky. A thought struck her…what would happen to Lucky? Although the three-year-old dog liked Jim, he was Mary’s dog through and through. If I die, Lucky will be abandoned, Mary thought. He won’t understand that I didn’t want to leave him! The thought made her sadder than thinking of her own death.

The double mastectomy was harder on Mary than her doctors had anticipated and Mary was hospitalized for over two weeks. Jim took Lucky for his evening walk faithfully, but the little dog just drooped, whining and miserable.

Finally the day came for Mary to leave the hospital. When she arrived home, Mary was so exhausted she couldn’t even make it up the steps to her bedroom. Jim made his wife comfortable on the couch and left her to nap.

Lucky stood watching Mary but he didn’t come to her when she called. � It made Mary sad but sleep soon overcame her and she dozed.

When Mary woke for a second she couldn’t understand what was wrong.  She couldn’t move her head and her body felt heavy and hot. But panic soon gave way to laughter when Mary realized the problem. She was covered, literally blanketed, with every treasure Lucky owned!  While she had slept, the sorrowing dog had made trip after trip to the basement bringing his beloved mistress all his favorite things in life.  He had covered her with his love.

Mary forgot about dying.  Instead she and Lucky began living again, walking further and further together every day. It’s been 12 years now and Mary is still cancer-free. Lucky He still steals treasures and stashes them in his toy box but Mary remains his greatest treasure.

Remember….live every day to the fullest. Each minute is a blessing from God. And never forget….the people who make a difference in our lives are not the ones with the most Credentials, the most money, or the most awards. They are the ones that care for us. If you see someone without a smile today give them one of yours! Live simply. Love seriously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God

Please pray for the cure for Cancer

postheadericon A Lovely Fable

 

This is a lovely fable, but certainly in my way of thinking could really be true for dogs are our greatest companions.  I for one cannot live without my dogs. I love my Cavaliers, but I could love almost any dog and welcome it as my companion.

A man and his dog were walking along a road. The man was enjoying the
scenery, when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead.

      He remembered dying, and that the dog walking beside him had been dead
for years. He wondered where the road was leading them.
   After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of
the road. It looked like fine marble. At the top of a long hill, it was
broken by a tall arch that glowed in the sunlight.
When he was standing before it he saw a magnificent gate in the arch that
looked like mother-of-pearl, and the street that led to the gate looked like
pure gold. He and the dog walked toward the gate, and as he got closer, he
saw a man at a desk to one side.

     When he was close enough, he called out, ‘Excuse me, where are we?’  ‘This is Heaven, sir,’ the man answered. ‘Wow! Would you happen to have some water?’ the man asked. ‘Of course, sir. Come right in, and I’ll have some ice water brought right
up.’

   The man gestured, and the gate began to open.   ‘Can my friend,’ gesturing toward his dog, ‘come in, too?’ the traveler asked. ‘I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t accept pets.’

The man thought a moment and then turned back toward the road and continued
the way he had been going with his dog.    After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he came to a dirt road leading through a farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed.. There was no fence.  

     As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree
and reading a book. ‘Excuse me!’ he called to the man. ‘Do you have any water?’
‘Yeah, sure, there’s a pump over there, come on in.’  ‘How about my friend here?’ the traveler gestured to the dog. ‘There should be a bowl by the pump.’
They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand
pump with a bowl beside it. The traveler filled the water bowl and took a long drink himself, then he gave some to the dog.   

     When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing by the tree. ‘What do you call this place?’ the traveler asked.
‘This is Heaven,’ he answered.  

      ‘Well, that’s confusing,’ the traveler said. ‘The man down the road said that was Heaven, too.’ ‘Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates?    Nope. That’s hell.’ ‘Doesn’t it make you mad for them to use your name like that?’ ‘No, we’re just happy that they screen out the folks who would leave their best friends behind.’ 

    I don’t know how you would feel, but it would not feel like heaven to me without my best friends!  Until next time . . .

postheadericon Tearjerker 2/16/09

 

This following was emailed to me today. It really got to me; so often we don’t think of how our behavior affects our pets. In this economy, pets are finding the times as hard as their owners.  As foreclosures happen and houses abandoned, pets also have been left locked up in empty houses with no food or water or left on chains to die.  The breed rescues are filled to capacity; the shelters are taking in so many dogs that can’t be placed and may be eventually euthanized.  My brother just found the sweetest, nicest dog abandoned on the roadside; this dog is one of the lucky ones as we will see that he finds a good home.  It is hard to imagine families being forced to give up the pets that are loved as members of the family; however, people losing houses may have to find housing that does not allow pets.  Such a sad situation for all. When you read the following, please think of your dog (or cat) and remember how dependent our pets are on us.

A PET’S TEN COMMANDMENTS………

1. My life is likely to last 10-15 years. Any separation from you is likely to be painful.

2. Give me time to understand what you want of me.

3. Place your trust in me. It is crucial for my well-being.

4. Don’t be angry with me for long and don’t lock me up as punishment. You have your work, your friends, your entertainment, but I have only you.

5. Talk to me. Even if I don’t understand your words, I do understand your voice when speaking to me.

6. Be aware that however you treat me, I will never forget it.

7. Before you hit me, before you strike me, remember that I could hurt you, and yet, I choose not to bite you.

8. Before you scold me for being lazy or uncooperative, ask yourself if something might be bothering me. Perhaps I’m not getting the right food, I have been in the sun too long, or my heart might be getting old or weak.

9. Please take care of me when I grow old. You too, will grow old.

10. On the ultimate difficult journey, go with me please. Never say you can’t bear to watch. Don’t make me face this alone. Everything is easier for me if you are there, because I love you so.

Take a moment today to thank God for your pets. Enjoy and take good care of them.
Life would be a much duller, less joyful experience without God’s critters.
We do not have to wait for Heaven to be surrounded by hope, love and joyfulness. It is here on earth and has four legs! 

postheadericon Heartwarming Stories: Old Dogs

Please take a look at the following and get a tissue:

http://tinyurl.com/WPolddog

Then read the following and get another tissue:

SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME
By
Saralee Perel

Gracie, my beautiful 13-year-old shepherd/collie mix, has found her purpose.

Six years ago, when I came home from a Boston hospital after my spinal cord injury, I was wearing a huge rock-solid brace that went from my chin to the middle of my chest.

When my husband Bob helped me to our couch, Gracie hopped up to give me her usual 3 million “Yippee you’re home!” kisses. But before she landed her sloppy tongue on my face, she abruptly stopped herself upon seeing my brace
and, I believe, sensing my pain.

And in that instant, I was no longer her caregiver. I was in her care.

Ever since then, Gracie’s reason-to-be has been to watch over me.

Although she’s nearly deaf now, she feels the vibration on the floor when I get out of bed. She rouses herself from her heated doggie bed. As I head to the bathroom, she leads the way as if saying, “I’ll protect you, Mom. Just
stay behind me.” If there is anything such as a slipper in my path, she will come to a stop, turn sideways to block me, and then wait until she’s sure I’ve seen the obstacle.

Lately, I’ve been re-learning how to walk. And just recently I made my first trek to walk with her at her favorite spot – a woodland path around a pond. I used to walk there with her every day . . . before.

It was emotionally brutal seeing my old dog amble so lamely now. With her head down, she tried her best to walk a straight line, but she couldn’t.

The next day something wondrous happened. Gracie remembered her calling. Renewed as if granted a second life, she became happy and purposeful in her ever-vigilant new role as “Grand Protector of My Mom.”

If another dog jumps up to greet me, I fall. So, on that second day, a dog about 30 pounds bigger and many years younger than Gracie raced in my direction. Gracie, barking, “I’ll get him!” moved as fast as she could to shield me. She planted her old, weak body right in front of me as a barrier.

She faced the large, spirited dog. Then she barked a loud warning, “You better stay away from my mom!” The dog tried to get around her to reach me. Gracie growled, which I have not seen her do in over 10 years, “I mean it!”

The dog backed off. Gracie has taken on 4 dogs at once, to stop them from getting to me.

You see, she has shown me something I had not known before. Gracie would give up her life for me.

A verse from the song “Mr. Bojangles” haunts me.

“He spoke with tears of fifteen years
how his dog and him just traveled about.
His dog up and died.
He up and died.
After twenty years he still grieves.”

Today, I said to my wise reverend friend Connie, “Do you think that having Gracie is worth the pain of losing her?”

Connie said, “Oh yes. Your sadness is so deep only because your love is so deep. What is a life without love?”

And so, I knelt on the floor next to my Gracie. “Thank you for taking care of me – for protecting me from all of the evils you think could ever come my way.” I rubbed her bony hips and shoulders. “You have done a great job.” I kissed her golden forehead. “I will always love you.” She sighed, then fell
asleep, tired from a long day of watching over me. I whispered so as not to wake her, “You are my true friend.”

Nationally-syndicated, award-winning columnist Saralee Perel can be reached at sperel@saraleeperel.com or via her web site: www.saraleeperel.com

Copyright 2009 Saralee Perel. Permission is granted to send this to others, with attribution, but not for commercial purposes.

postheadericon Bella and Tara: heartwarming

This is a heartwarming vignette and perhaps we should all adopt its message:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aFz-FMj-9Ps